Élodie Capet
Élodie Capet D. O. B: 'February 10th, 1412 '''Gender: '''Female '''Marital Status: '''Widowed. '''Last Known Location: '''New York City, USA '''Occupation: '''Knight / Guardian '''Power (If DNA Alternate): 'Empathic Mimicry Personality A product of her time and yet striving to be something more, Élodie has always been a woman caught between two different worlds. In an age when the daughters of nobility were seen as beautiful accessories at best and commodities to be bartered with at worse, Élodie was raised in a manner intended to instill certain ideals. Chief amongst these was the notion of submission to the patriarchal society in which she lived. In all things, she would show deference to her male family members. Élodie was to be polite. She was to present herself with grace and just enough character to stand out, without breaking conventions. Her early persona was thus built meticulously from the ground up, piece by piece, by her family and their servants. She was to be a young woman governed by rules, living out a life that from birth had been planned by others, with little free will or choice. Any attempt at self-expression was ruthlessly stamped out through one means or another. If a stern dressing down did not do the trick, the birch often worked in it's stead. This initially produced a woman without a true personality. An empty, hollow person, essentially an actor playing a role, unable to deviate from the script that had already been written for them. However, there was always more to Élodie than met the eye. Whilst her sense of duty did not allow her to disobey her families wishes or actively be seen as working against the rules that had been set for her, inside, Élodie wished to be more than simply an accessory. She may have felt empty, but inside that hollowed out shell that had been so carefully crafted by the environment in which she'd been raised, there was a candle wick, desperately craving light. The rise of Jeanne d'Arc, and indeed the revival of France as a nation, provided the kindling which began to set that wick alight. Élodie learned that a woman could be more than a mother to children, more than an object to be sold off in return for military alliances or a substantial dowry. A woman could wear armor, a woman could lead men into battle. A woman could even capture the hearts of a nation and turn the tide of a war. Thus, Élodie began to develop a feeling of self-worth that fought against the tide of quiet obedience that she had swam with her entire life. Since her self-awakening and, perhaps more importantly, some of the events that drastically altered her life, Élodie has become a strong, principled woman. A living embodiment of chivalry, Élodie could very well fit as a picture postcard representation of everything an old world knight was supposed to represent. She conducts herself in an honorable fashion and places no value in deception, nor in those who make it their tools, even if it may put her at a disadvantage to do so. Her worldly possessions mean little to her, for Élodie does not pursue wealth, nor glory. To those less fortunate, she is charitable. She is devout in her beliefs, not only in the chivalric code that she has chosen to uphold, but in the Roman Catholic faith. Élodie is as zealous in her beliefs as any Crusader from an age of Christendom long since past. She believes that her abilities are a gift from the Heavens, and that she is a vessel of divinity, much like Jeanne d'Arc, blessed with the power to do great things. With zeal comes a tendency towards a certain rigidity of beliefs. This most certainly applies to Élodie. She cares little for talk of atheism, and secular principles baffle her. Élodie believes in the almighty benevolence of God, and feels that, if God sees fit to only speak through agents of the Church, then it is through the Church that society must function. She cannot abide by avarice, lustfulness, and gluttony. Those who make it their business to defile the bodies given to them by Christ are little more than pigs in human clothing. If anything, she pities such poor creatures, because she is certain in the knowledge that they will burn in the eternal fires of damnation. Élodie does not make a secret of her beliefs or principles. She feels that it is her purpose to be a living avatar of chivalric goodness, and to attempt to hide that which has illuminated her life and taken her out of the shadows and into God's nourishing embrace would be nothing short of the gravest sin. She is wholly determined to follow the path laid down before her by Christ, no matter where it may lead, or what foes it might pit her against. Even when everything she knows has been changed around. History '''Family Relations: Gaspard Valois - father, duc de Orléans Isabelle Valois ''- mother, duchesse de Orléans'' Rupert Valois - older brother, comte de Blois Édouard Valois'' - older brother '' Guillaume Valois ''- younger brother'' Corinne Valois'' - younger sister'' Renaud Armagnac ''- husband, duc de Nemours'' Julien Armagnac ''- son'' Sylvie Armagnac ''- daughter'' Other Significant People: Luke Williams - descendant Story To Date: The year is 1412. The place: Orléans, north-central France. A once wealthy and prosperous city, the run-down, destitute nature of Orléans was very much representative of the nation of France as a whole. For the past 75 years, the country had been involved in a bitter military conflict with England, a conflict that would last for another 41 years and become known to history as the Hundred Years' War. It was a period of rapid and monumental change in French society. France saw her lands devastated by the warfare. Entire villages burned down to the ground. Dynasties rising and falling with each passing month. Family trees wiped out in a single battle. It was thus, a time of great strife, but this strife would also in time give way to hope. The year of 1412 is of significance for two reasons: on this year, a peasant child who would go on to become known as Jeanne d'Arc was born, in the village of Domrémy. Only a month after this significant birth, another girl would be born, one who has gone all but unrecognised by historians ever since. Her name was Élodie, and although the two women would never formally meet, her destiny was very much entwined with that of the girl who would later go on to be dubbed "the Maid of Orléans" Élodie Valois was born to Gaspard and Isabelle Valois. The French noble house of Valois was one of the most powerful noble families in the country, a cadet branch of the great Capetian dynasty which had supplied France, and indeed other nations throughout Western Europe, with rulers for centuries. The turmoil that had affected France had resulted in the different duchies frequently changing hands, and at the time of Élodie's birth, the title of Duc de Orléans had recently found it's way to her father. The first daughter born to the family, Élodie was seen even from birth as a valuable commodity, a bartering chip to be used in the overarching chess game that occupied the minds of the influential nobility. Capetian lineage carried with it a certain weight that many dynasties would pay highly for. It was thought that Élodie would fetch a fine dowry and forge links between the House of Valois-Orléans and whichever prestigious ally that would best suit their purposes once she had come of age. With this line of thinking, it is fair to say that Élodie did not have the sort of childhood that we in modern society would consider to be happy. She saw very little of her father, who was tied up heavily in the political and military struggles that occupied the attentions of the upper echelons in French nobility. Her interactions with her brothers were limited, for they spent the vast majority of their time being educated by male tutors. Whilst her brothers would have learned about military history, chivalry, and the art of war, Élodie was given a very limited education. For a daughter that was to be married away in the future, it was important to her family that she learn how to be a good wife. That meant first of all being a dutiful Catholic. Élodie was introduced to the Church at an early age and was taken on regular visits to a convent in Orléans, where she was mentored in theology by several nuns, who came to act as handmaidens in a sense. The teachings of Christ spoke to Élodie in a way that captivated her heart. The often detached nature in which her parents had interacted with the young girl had left her feeling somewhat lonely, so in the company of the nuns, she found a certain warmth and solace, which quickly became associated with religion in itself. Élodie spent much of her young life this way, learning how best to be a good, devout Catholic wife. She found herself struggling to reconcile her own child-like curiosity about the world and desire for adventure with the very straight and narrow path that had been paved out in front of her from the day she was born. Whilst the ambitions of her older brothers were praised and encouraged, any attempt that Élodie made to demonstrate a desire for something more than learning the delicate art of womanly courtesy was often replied to in a harsh fashion. Many times, the young girl felt the cruel kiss of the birch against her skin. In time, she learned to stop asking, and for a time, perhaps even accepted her role in life. This left her a hollow soul, however. Even as she began to blossom as a young woman, there was little change in Élodie's demeanour. She feigned happiness and consent towards the wishes of her parents. It was simply the way of the time, so why fight against it? Whilst she was thirteen, Élodie's mother informed her that when she turned sixteen, she would be wed to the young duc de Nemours, Renaud Armagnac. The House of Armagnac were growing in prominence in France at the time, and the marriage would create a valuable political alliance for the House of Valois. The conversation was very much one-sided, it was a simple declaration, and Élodie was left in her bedroom alone. The knowledge that she would be married should have brought happiness to her, afterwards, it would be fulfilling the duty that she'd had relentlessly drilled into her since birth. But in truth, she felt nothing. The same hollow emptiness that had followed her around without relent ever since she'd come to believe that her destiny would never be her own. Time proceeded as always towards the agreed date for the wedding. On her sixteenth birthday, Élodie was escorted from Orléans to neighbouring Nemours, where she met her betrothed for the first time, and they were married. Renaud Armagnac was a handsome young man with a charming smile and more compassion than could be said of many nobles during this period of history. Although the marriage had been arranged and the pair had never previously met, Renaud put in a substantial effort to have his new bride fall in love with him. Élodie responded in kind by going through the motions that had been ingrained into her persona by years of strict discipline and tuition. She was the picture of elegance and beauty. Polite, humorous when the opportunity produced itself, and above all things, subservient to the whims of her new husband. Élodie even found herself developing genuine feelings for Renaud, perhaps because he was the first person who had ever shown what passed for real interest in her. Following their marriage, Élodie was to move to Nemours formally to live in the wealthy Armagnac estate alongside her new husband. However, some time after settling in with Renaud, Élodie learned that her mother was gravely ill and was recalled to Orléans to visit with her. It was the start of October, 1428. The travel was seen as extremely dangerous as the English army was said to be close by, with rumours of a planned assault on Orléans rife amongst the nobles. Renaud could not travel alongside his young bride, in fact, as he was too busy marshalling his vassals to fulfil his military obligations to the House of Valois in defending their north-central holdings. Thus, Élodie made the trip by herself, and arrived a day short of her mother's passing. They shared little in the way of tender words, for Isabelle Valois by this point was far gone in her mind due to sickness. Élodie found it difficult to cry. Her older brothers and even her father were not present by Isabelle's bedside as she breathed her last. They were off commanding the knights of Orléans on the battlefield, defending further south along the River Loire against the English. Élodie's spirits were lifted by becoming reacquainted with her younger siblings, Guillaume and Sylvie, with whom she'd always had a warm relationship with. Their reunion however was not happy for too long. The morning that Élodie was due to return to Nemours, she was curtly informed that travel would be impossible. The city was surrounded by English forces, and would soon be under siege. The siege would last for six months, six long, hard months. Even the nobles of Orléans were affected. The whispers at court spoke of the barbaric English and the crimes they would carry out. According to customs at the time, a city that surrendered without resistance was often treated well by it's conquerors. Orléans refused to surrender, and thus, harsh reparations were expected. Stories were told of the rapacious nature of the English soldiers, and the atrocities that they had been associated with in the past. The nobles might well have feared for their wealth and status, but also for the first time, they feared for the well-being of their children, and what might become of them should the city fall. Élodie spent much of this time carrying for her younger siblings and managing the day to day affairs of the Valois household, given that all of the ranking men had gone off to battle elsewhere. The increasing desperation of the peasant-folk in the city struck a chord with Élodie, and she saw to it that her family's servants spared no expense in distributing food to the city markets at almost no cost. She had never been in a position of power, limited as it may have been, before, but she sought to make full use of it to keep the spirits of Orléans high. The siege was expected to last only a short time, but days turned into weeks, and weeks into months. During this time, Élodie had an unusual encounter with a young woman. Despite the fact that the House of Valois, on her authority, were doing their best to hand out food to those in need, her servants had raised the idea that someone was stealing from their food cellars regardless. Élodie awoke one night in her bedchamber, to find a young girl sitting at the edge of her bed. It didn't take her sleep-clouded eyes long to realise that the girl, who looked to be no older than ten, was holding a cloth sack no doubt full of stolen food. It was not in Élodie's nature to react with anger, so she simply conversed with the child for a time. The girl told her that the markets were often run by greedy men who kept too much food in reserve for themselves and their families, and cared little for anybody else. She was stealing food from Élodie's family simply because they would miss it the least, and her family was starving. Élodie forgave her for the crime and in fact let her leave with her blessing. The girl did not give any indication how she managed to get in and out of the well guarded Valois estate, and simply vanished into the shadows as quickly as she had come. Élodie admired the girl's boldness, and the child-like freedom that she seemed to possess. A freedom that she herself had never known as a girl. Soon enough, the siege finally came to an end, the result was not what many in Orléans expected: the English had retreated. A new French relief force had lifted the siege in only nine days. When the triumphant relief force entered the city, the stories spread quickly. A young woman the same age as Élodie had been leading the charge. Her name was Jeanne, and she claimed to be God's messenger, sent to lead France to victory against the English. Whilst there was a considerable outrage amongst most of the nobility in Orléans, Élodie found herself captivated by the story. When the troops paraded through the streets, she made a point of disguising herself in common clothing so that she could catch a glimpse of the woman. Jeanne radiated courage and conviction. The religious zeal was evident in her every word and action. Élodie believed wholeheartedly that what Jeanne claimed was true. How else could the siege have been lifted so fast, if God did not will it? Although she never met Jeanne in person, catching glimpse of the girl who would soon be celebrated as a national heroine was an inspiring sight. If a peasant girl could do such great acts, then perhaps her path wasn't quite so set in stone as she had once thought. With the siege lifted, Élodie was free to return to Nemours. Upon her arrival however, she was greeted with grave news. Renaud, who had participated in an early assault upon the English force sieging Orléans, had been seriously wounded, and it was uncertain whether he would live. Élodie maintained a tireless vigil beside her husband's beside for three long weeks, during which his life ebbed and flowed from one stretch of mortality to the next. After a time, he began to regain his strength, but in private, he confided to Élodie that he would never be able to lead men into battle once more. His injury had left his sword arm weak to the point that he could barely hold anything heavier than a cup. Renaud was too proud to demonstrate his handicap to anyone but his wife. It was however more than simply pride. The House of Armagnac was an ambitious one, and there was no telling what some of his brothers might do if they learned of his injury. The duchy of Nemours would make a fine title for any man, and his family members were by no means devoted enough to their own blood to ignore the potential for intrigue. Two months passed following the siege of Orléans. Élodie tended to her husband night and day, and found increasingly clever ways of disguising the damage that had been done to his hand. She would be by his side constantly, and often found some way of lifting things that he would otherwise have been expected to carry. When the men whom he had often sparred alongside in the courtyard every morning requested his company, Élodie claimed to be suffering from an illness of some kind, so that Renaud could stay and take care of her. Although Renaud suffered consistently from feelings of shame regarding the removal of his martial prowess, he found solace in the care of his wife, who devoted herself wholeheartedly to managing the household as best she could in his stead. The injury had drained more than just his athleticism, in a sense. It had almost left him a broken man. The brief peace that Élodie and Renaud knew together did not last. Soon, word came from Charles VII, the Dauphin of France. Renaud was to mobilise his vassals once more and join for a forthcoming campaign. Spurred on by their major victory at Orléans, France intended to vanquish the English invaders once and for all. Renaud had no choice but to answer the summons. Like Élodie, the victory at Orléans had created a nationalistic surge of feeling inside him, and he knew just how vital every soldier could be to the war effort. But he also knew that the men would not fight without their liege leading them, and what use could he be? Knights would not ride into battle next to a crippled general. He resigned himself to an honourable death on the battlefield, and had a message dispensed to Charles VII. Nemours would rally to his cause. Renaud's vassals answered his call, and a three-thousand strong army came together to represent Nemours in the coming campaign. Renaud planned to ride to the encampment and lead the troops from that point. However, he awoke the morning of his departure to find an empty bed next to him, his armour missing from it's stand, and a small note folded by the bedside table. It was not a complicated message. You have already given France all that she needs. I love you. With the aid of a female friend who often played masculine roles in theatrical productions, Élodie had bound her chest and disguised her features as best she could. Given her unusual height for the time period, the armour fit her relatively well, and it was nearly impossible to ascertain the identity of an individual once they were clad in the bulky heavy armour typical of French heavy cavalry. She hadn't the faintest idea what she was doing, in truth. Élodie knew nothing of warfare, nor battle, when she first put on Renaud's armour. But nothing in this world encourages quick learning like a trial by fire. Élodie largely avoided contact with her fellow commanders as much as possible, claiming to be suffering from a severe cold that had rendered her near unable to speak. The other nobles found this most odd, but didn't question it. They had their own affairs to deal with. Élodie instead designated orders for her troops preparations through the construction of neatly written messages, which were subsequently passed on through her subordinates. During the army's march towards the enemy, Élodie found herself entranced by the care free vigour with which the soldiers she commanded lived their lives. Although there were plenty of knights under her command, there were also numerous peasant levies. Common men who had little martial training, yet served with enthusiasm nonetheless. They had been inspired by the stories of Orléans. In particular, Élodie found herself strongly impacted by meeting a soldier who had been a veteran of the conflict. A grizzled man who looked to be nearly fifty years old, Alain Prostheau was known by his fellows as the "Man of Iron" for his apparent inability to be killed. Alain claimed to be the veteran of countless battles, many of them heavy French defeats. He attributed his continued survival to a 'gift' from God. Élodie felt charmed by his fortitude and religious conviction. It resonated with her to a degree that she did not yet understand, but which would prove vital soon enough. The army of Nemours first met the English forces in battle near Île-de-France. The richest and most populous region of the country, home to Paris, it had been under English occupation for much of the past few years, and now the French were determined to reclaim it. Élodie had done her best to recall the lessons on military strategy that she had occasionally listened in on during her childhood. She was in part fortunate that many of her subordinates were skilled commanders themselves, and passed on their knowledge when possible. Élodie questioned for a time if they were being too helpful. Had they learned her secret so quickly? Would she soon be sent back red-faced to Nemours, shaming the name of her House forever? As it turned out, no. If any of her lieutenants suspected anything, they said nothing about it. Renaud had fought with such fervour during the battle for Orléans that his men looked up to him as a hero. The commanders of the army of Nemours knew well the sort of effect on morale that a figurehead could have. Even perhaps if that figurehead wasn't really who they claimed to be. The French caught the English troops at a disadvantage. The army they encountered were made up of remnants from several lost battles, including the siege of Orléans. Élodie gave the order to charge, and thus, the battle began. It was a hectic and bloody sight. Men charging boldly forth, ignoring deadly hails of arrows from the feared English longbowmen. Soon enough it was time for the cavalry to enter the fray, and Élodie had no choice but to ride forth at the head of the charge. The lance felt all too heavy in her hands as she did her best to hold onto it. Her husband's warhorse, Agrippa, made up for her inexperience by being a fearless beast. Together they rode forward into the exposed English flank. The heavy cavalry smashed into the enemy, and bodies collided in a flash of blood and steel. Élodie's complete lack of martial training soon exposed itself, and she was knocked from her horse by the smack of a warhammer. She lay there upon the bloodied earth, staring up at the sky in a daze. She should have felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her from such a tumble, yet all she felt was confusion. Was she dying? Was the lack of pain she felt simply because she was now in God's hands? Not quite. Élodie was rudely snapped out of her daze by the crashing blow of the same warhammer that had sought to kill her previously. It smashed down upon her husband's breastplate, causing a huge dent that would surely have crushed her lungs were it not for the fact that the impact seemed to fail to cause any perceivable damage. The English soldier stared at her in bewilderment, a look which Élodie soon returned, before he was suddenly violently run through by a French spearman. A grizzed old spearman by the name of Alain, who Élodie recognised well. He took one look at Élodie's smashed breastplate and the complete lack of blood, and offered a toothy smile, before disappearing into the fray. Élodie pulled her sword from her scabbard, and let out the most fiercesome war cry that she could manage. Then, she charged after him. Both Alain and Élodie alike took many blows that day, blows that would have mortally wounded any other. Élodie thought it only due to divine providence that they were protected. God had sought fit to bless them both for reasons she could not fathom. It was not the place of the child to question the father. Try as they might, the enemy were simply unable to pierce Élodie's skin, nor shatter her bones. It was much the same for the grizzled old veteran, with whom Élodie stuck close for much of the battle. She cut down few men that day, for she scarcely have any idea how to wield the blade that she held between her hands. Nonetheless, she learned quickly, and her ability to largely ignore her own mistakes certainly allowed her the chance to keep learning. Eventually, a horn was blown to signal the English retreat. The battle had been won. By some miracle, Agrippa had survived, and was to be found waiting by Élodie's tent when she returned following the victory. This was but the start of a military campaign that would persist for several years to come. It was Élodie's baptism as a warrior. Over the next few years, Élodie continued to lead the army of Nemours when they were called to battle. Renaud forgave her for her transgressions and in time gave her his blessing. The servants of the Armagnac estate quickly became aware of what was transpiring, but they remained loyal to Renaud and Élodie, who had often shown them kindness. Élodie became friends with Alain, the seemingly unkillable veteran from whom she appeared to share a gift. He soon explained that they were not the only soldiers whom had been blessed by God, if that was indeed what had happened, and in time, Élodie became introduced to others with different gifts. A healer who travelled alongside the army and was capable of undoing wounds of any severity, as long as the wounded still drew breath. A massive bear of a man who could crush his enemies with his bare hands alone. Ferocious towards the English, but a gentleman in every respect towards Élodie. Finally, she encountered a warrior-monk, who had abandoned his religious vows claiming to have heard the voice of God, telling him to defend his country. He claimed that his gift allowed him to conjure the 'fire of Heaven' and, although he dared not use it against the English lest he be labelled a witch, he demonstrated the gift to Élodie in secret, crafting a radiant sword through what resembled golden fire. Their secrets served to bond the group together, and Élodie soon promoted her new friends to positions of leadership. It soon became apparent that Élodie's blessing was, however, different from those of her comrades. After getting to know each gifted individual, Élodie soon discovered, often by accident, that she had manifested the same talents. The lance that had once felt fragile in her hands became as light as a feather. Her touch could heal even the most severe of wounds, and she felt the tingling of the 'fire of Heaven' flowing through her veins, and could craft it into whatever her mind desired. Needless to say, these talents aided her to no end in the battles that followed, and the army of Nemours proved itself to be a devastating component of the overall French war effort. Over the campaign that followed, Élodie became more than just a clumsy girl driven by zeal. She became hardened by the battlefield. Her mind and body alike sharpened into a weapon of great lethality. She found no great love for the slaughter of the enemy, even if she perceived the English to be vile. In Élodie's mind, she was simply doing God's work. Her military days came to an end with the execution of Jeanne d'Arc for heresy. When Élodie learned of how Charles VII had essentially abandoned the Maid of Orléans, she was disgusted. In her eyes, the King had just wrongfully executed a Messenger of God, a woman who had inspired not just her, but the entire nation! By this point, the war was beginning to turn decisively in France's favour, and several of the King's vassals were standing down. The Duchy of Nemour did the same, and Élodie returned home, disheartened by the experience. She did not hear the voice of God speaking to her in the same way that Jeanne had claimed to, but did that make them any less alike? Surely, Jeanne had been like Élodie and her friends. They were not witches. She knew them far too well. They had all been eager servants of God. Everything they had done had been in his name. If the Church ever found out what she could do, would they try to burn her at the stake, too? Élodie could not abide by the idea. She returned to her husband and decided to settle down. The rest of Élodie's history from this point bears little worth in mentioning. She gave birth to two healthy children and lived out her days in peace, dying at the age of 96 having seen France triumph at last in the Hundred Years' War and become the central powerhouse on the European continent. However, by the time of her death, such things had ceased to interest her. Following her experience in the war, she cared only for the love of her family and her devotion to Christ. She kept in touch with the friends she made during her time as a battle commander, and even stumbled across the young girl she had met during the siege of Orléans, who turned out to be the daughter of Alain, the first gifted individual she had met. He had died of old age soon after the war ended, and Élodie saw to it that his family was well taken care of, having Renaud grant them a patch of land outside the city where they would be free to farm and provide for themselves. Élodie and the girl, Laina, became good friends, and it soon emerged that she too was gifted, although with a rather different gift than her father. She could instantly appear in almost any place of her choosing, explaining how she'd been able to sneak inside Élodie's estate all those years ago. This would be where Élodie's story ended, were it not for the emergence of her descendant, Luke Williams. Gifted with the ability to 'summon' his ancestors through space and time to protect him, a close brush with death caused him to bring Élodie into the present day. The peculiarities of this particular ability did not remove her from her own timeline, per say. The Élodie that now exists in our modern world is in effect a 26 year old duplicate at the peak of her powers, so to speak. An idealised version of herself, still possessed of the zealous conviction that made her so effective during the Hundred Years' War. Despite this fact, she is not completely unaware of her past life, to the point that she has now taken the second name of 'Capet', a nod to the Capetian bloodline from which she has descended, rather than the name of Valois, nor Armagnac. Élodie believes that God has granted her another chance at life, a new purpose.. and will stop at nothing to fulfil it. Miscellaneous Theme Songs: * The Battle Is To The Strong by Yuki Kaijura Trackers: * Élodie's Thread Tracker Category:Original Characters (DNA Alternates)